Who's Always There?
by I'm Done Believing
Summary: "How do I find her mother?" he asked in a hushed whisper. His mother smiled and said, "When you need someone the most, who helps you? When you need to cry, who holds you? When you need to talk, who listens? When you turn to look beside you, who's always there?" I decided to turn my oneshot into a longer story. I hope you like it. And as always, please R


**Before I start I'd like to bring to your attention that I don't own Harry Potter. Miss Rowling had the ingenious idea, much to my envy. ****However, the character Sara Amara _does_ belong to me.**

**Please do remember to Read and Review!**

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The beautiful owl swooped down and landed next to what was Draco Malfoy's dessert. His heart leapt with anticipation and a bit of fear as he untied the letter from the owl's outstretched leg. The letter he'd been waiting for from his mother for such a long time. He thought about getting up and leaving to read his mothers words in private where he could take his time to read and cherish each word, but the Great Hall was now almost empty save for a couple of students who had come to eat late, so he settled down to read without the curious, calculating eyes of his fellow Slytherins burning into him.

When he looked at the envelope it wasn't his mother's handwriting (which was so much like his own), but that of his father, who had managed to make his writing as harsh and cold as his character. His heart stopped and his hands shook as they opened the seal, dreading the contents: another task from the Dark Lord?

_You have failed yet again…you waste chance after chance…you have shamed the Malfoy name…don't deserve to be happy…your mother and I are so disappointed…ashamed to call you our son…filth…. You don't deserve the power and wealth from our family name… dragged it through the mud… stupid… beaten in every class by a mudblood… failed to do the dark lord's bidding… You are hereby _disowned _from this family…no longer our son... we never want to see you again… _

Each word bit into him, making him flinch. His eyes burned in humiliation, in anger and in helplessness and he stumbled from the Hall with no destination in mind, wanting only to escape to cry where he wouldn't be seen and where he wouldn't cause the Malfoy name any more _shame_. His feet carried him outside which was bustling with students trying to make the most of the evening autumn sun before the snow finally came.

That was when someone grabbed his arm and started to pull him back inside.

"You don't want to be here right now." their voice whispered when they felt him tense, but he wasn't in a state to argue so he let himself be pulled through corridors and up stairs (and through a secret passageway, perhaps, but he wasn't paying much attention, merely trying to stop himself from crying in public) till they came to a stop outside the library.

"Why here," he asked, "it's so crowded."

"Trust me." she said – yes it was definitely a she – as she dragged him further into the library to a corner with a table sectioned off from the rest of the room by the towering bookshelves.

She let go of his arm and he collapsed on a table his head in his arms and silent tears pouring uncontrollably, soaking the sleeves of his robes. He was unaware of the charms the girl was placing around them.

"Cave inimicum, muffliato." she whispered, along with more charms whose effects would be unnoticeable unless someone was looking for their effects.

She then walked over to the table, ignoring Draco completely and put her bag down under the table. She next summoned two mugs and a bottle of butterbeer to the table and poured some in both mugs, brought out some Thorntons chocolates from her bag and put those in between the drinks. She pulled out the chair next to Draco and sat down with her head in her arms and waited.

* * *

What seemed like hours later, Draco's sobs quieted and he became aware of the girl's presence (who was now reading what looked to be a historical fiction novel) and his surroundings. She sat with her legs crossed on the chair and the book in her lap and wore dark red glasses which kept sliding down her nose, so she would push them back up every now and then with the middle finger of her right hand. She wore robes with the Slytherin emblem and a silver scarf lay discarded along with her cloak on the back of her chair but he was almost certain he'd never come across her in anywhere in the school. Her light brown hair was held up in a large clip but some escaped to touch her cheeks, which she kept tucking behind her ears. A strange Slytherin to say the least. Others would have been impeccably dressed and put together at all times, priding themselves on maintaining the high standard expected of them.

The room was silent and quite beautiful – he'd never been this far into the library before – quieter than it should be, he noticed, but who was he to complain. And by the gold light that shone through the tall arched window which made up most of the corner two walls, it was getting quite late.

His attention was brought back to the girl who stopped reading , put the book on the table and stretched with a yawn then turned to look at him so he said the first thing that came to mind.

"It's getting late- almost curfew, we'll get in trouble." then he felt like hitting his head on the table._ Thank you would have been a good way to start. Even asking her name._

But the girl didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, she smiled then let out a small laugh and said, "no one will find us here till we want them to," and because Draco had a look crossed between worried and confused, she added, "I added protective enchantments. I thought you'd want to be away from everything for a while," and then seeing his speechlessness, she said with amusement sparkling in her eyes, "There's no need to be worried. I'm not going to _eat _you. You can leave any time you want just walk through that wall over there – it's fake. A charm I learnt and it's really useful. Have some butterbeer –it's not poisoned, I promise, I've had some too. And the chocolates are simply divine."

"Why?" Draco managed to choke out.

"I'm not sure how they do it either, without magic that is. But they sure do make chocolates well, for muggles that is-" but a sparkle in her eye showed that she was just playing with him.

"No. Why did you do all this?" he asked, pink with embarrassment that she'd seen him at his weakest.

"Because chocolates are good for when you feel down," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "and you must be dehydrated after all that crying." then seeing his frustration, she added, "because you need someone right now, and you needed to cry somewhere people couldn't hear you because of your silly Malfoy pride."

He was about to protest about the crying, but he was too exhausted from it to argue.

"And what's your name?" he finally inquired.

"Does it matter?" She asked.

"Of course it does." He replied.

"If I tell you will you tell me what happened?" she asked, "I promise I won't tell anyone."

"It's a long story." He said.

"We have as long as we want really." she replied, "My friends won't notice me gone till tomorrow and I could always say I wasn't feeling well so couldn't make it to class. And no one is going to disturb us here."

And he actually thought about it. He really did want to know her name.

"Okay."

"Sara." she said, smiling and held out a hand for him to shake. "Sara Amara. Nice to finally talk to you Draco Malfoy."

After shaking his hand Sara stood up, took her wand again and muttered yet another spell to turn two chairs into armchairs and the table into a coffee table for the butterbeer and chocolates, then sat with her legs crossed on one, her mug of butterbeer in her hands and looked up expectantly at Draco, who stood looking astonished, and waited for him to sit in the armchair next to hers.

When he'd taken a drink from his mug and she'd topped up his butterbeer and hers, he started to speak. He spoke about his father, the pressures that were put on him, his mother, his missions, his fears and worries. All the while she watched him and how he softened when he spoke of his mother and how old he looked as he recounted his experiences, never "at home"- but always "the Manor" as if he had no happy memories connected to the place.

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As he finished, he had tears in his eyes again, but not the kind that threatened to spill. They sat in silence for a while, her letting his words sink in, and him coming to terms with the fact that he'd said all this out loud for the first time.

Afraid he would go back to feeling miserable, she moved to sit on the floor and took his hands in hers, palm upwards so he had to sit forward.

"Well, well, well," she said, making him look at the lines on his hands, "this is most interesting." she said with a look of interest and a bit of mischief once again dancing in her eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Well I don't know whether I should tell you." she teased.

"Well if it's about me then surely I have a right to know!" he said, the dull mood forgotten and a determination to learn what she found so amusing in the lines of his palms.

"Okay, okay," she relented, then her mood went serious once more, "you see this line?" she asked and he nodded his head vigorously, "It means your childhood has had a big impact on you and will have on how you live your life."

"But I've basically just told you that!" he exclaimed.

"Hush!" she muttered, tapping his head lightly as if scolding a child, "well this is good."

"What?"

"You're going to use your past experiences and learn from them – look – you have three life-lines. You were travelling down this one, completely disregarded this and could travel down this one. So you have a major decision awaiting you soon." she said, pointing out various lines on his palms.

"At least we know that you'll be faithful in your marriage," she continued, "and you'll only fall in love once," she said, "and you will be happy and – oh! I think I should be keeping _that_ bit to myself!" she said in an almost scandalised tone, blushing a bright red.

"But you can't keep something about me to yourself!" he cried, leaning further forward as if he could understand what it was that she wasn't telling him.

"I don't think it's something I'd like to discuss with anyone." she refused.

"But I've been open to you. It's only fair you tell me!" he stubbornly demanded.

"Ok, ok- you're orderly, punctual, and precise-"

"No tell me what you didn't want to tell me!"

"O-okay." she took a breath, trying to calm the raging red of her face. "It kind of, sort of, basically means…"

"Means what?" Draco asked, having forgotten the letter, the life problems, and now concentrating on what Sara, someone he hadn't known till today, was telling him of his life to come. He didn't believe it, any more than she did, but she'd given him an escape, if only for a little while.

"Thatyou'regoodinbed." she said in such a rushed voice he couldn't understand her.

"What?" he asked again.

"That you're good in bed." she muttered, not looking directly at him and now the same colour as a strawberry.

"Oh." he said, fairly surprised.

"Anyway," she carried on, desperate not to linger on this topic, "it also says you will take your own path in life," as she said this, she traced a line on his left palm and it sent shivers down both of their backs, "you'll do what you enjoy, you're a caring person but you don't like to show it. And that's about it," she muttered and let go of his hands.

"You're not your fathers puppet, Draco. You can be who you want to be. You're a kind soul and you have such a capacity to love I don't know why you try to hide it." she said.

Draco was stunned into silence and Sara got up to leave, packing her bag and making the butterbeer, and the chocolates disappear with a flick of her wand. She gave him one last smile and left through the fake wall.

* * *

Draco sat there for a while, digesting it all. He sat there for hours, falling asleep at one point, and when he awoke, he cursed, looking at the time - he was going to be late for Potions! And he was thinking where his bag was because he'd left it in the Great Hall the other night. But he needn't have worried because someone - Sara probably - had left it on the table for him, along with a change of clothes (how had she gotten that?) and breakfast. He felt such a rush of relief he laughed out loud and began to get changed.

All throughout the day, Draco couldn't get her out of his mind. She'd helped him when he'd most needed a friend. When he'd dreamt last night, it had been of her - the way her lips moved when she spoke, her smile, the way he felt envious of her hair that touched her cheek so softly. Most surprisingly, he'd dreamt of kissing her: her forehead; her lips; her neck. He'd never felt this way before. He shook his head as if to rid it of the very thought and hurried to his next lesson.

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**A/N - I really hope you enjoy reading this. It wasn't planned and I've only checked through it once. Please excuse any mistakes I've made. Please review with any feedback. Thank you! :)**


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